The Perils of Sleeptalking
by Rottweiler7692
Summary: What happens when both Winchesters sleeptalk on command? Complete. NOW REVISED!
1. Chapter 1

The Perils of Sleepwalking Chapter 1

I got this idea because I sleep talk and sleepwalk. I found out I do what (Dean and Sam do in this story) at a sleepover. My friends recorded it!! I was so embarrassed because I said some really embarrassing things. I made up most of the other stuff, though. I don't know if it is really true and other people can do it. Try it on your friends and see if it works!

Edit: I revised the whole story. I apologize for all the mistakes.

* * *

Sam awoke suddenly barely biting back a scream. Jessica was burning on the ceiling and a voice was echoing in his head: "_It's your fault, Sam._" He looked over at Dean in the bed next to him. There was a smile on his brother's face and he was hugging his pillow, the covers half off him and lying haphazardly across the motel bed. Sam envied his brother for being able to sleep so peacefully at night considering the things that had happened in their past. Sam turned around and lay back down, not intending to go back to sleep after that nightmare. Dean mumbled in his sleep and turned over.

Suddenly, Sam had an idea. A long time ago, he'd gone to a party and had practiced hypnosis with a couple buddies. He'd also learned that some people can answer questions in their sleep. It was almost like a lie detector test because the sleeping person would answer completely truthfully. Somewhere in a sleeping person's subconscious mind, they are aware of what is going on and if they are relaxed enough, they will answer questions.

Sam grinned evilly. He wondered if his brother was one of those people and decided he would find out soon. He threw off his covers and stood over Dean's bed. His brother was still smiling and he looked really innocent and younger than his 26 years. Sam almost felt guilty for what he was about to do, then brushed the feeling away. Dean had done much worse things to him before. Sam sat down on Dean's bed as the springs creaked and the bed dipped.

"Dean, are you asleep?" Sam began in a low, hypnotic voice.

Dean shifted slowly, the smile sliding off his face. Sam grinned at this first sign that Dean was aware of what he was saying.

"What are you dreaming about, Dean?" Sam tried again.

"Mmmm. Ashley." Dean said clear but sleepily.

Sam's grin split his face, but then he quickly jumped up as he realized what Dean could be implying. He did not want to know what his brother was dreaming about! "Whoa, whoa, Dean! Stop dreaming!" Sam said a bit louder than he'd expected and was very surprised when his brother relaxed his hold on his pillow and shifted again. "What's your greatest fear other than flying?" Sam asked, trying a different question.

"Sammy and Dad leaving me," Dean answered honestly without reacting as he would have done if Sam had asked him that when he was awake. Shocked, Sam just stared at his brother. He had no idea. Sam decided he wouldn't ask any more serious questions because he knew how Dean would react if he knew what he had just told Sam.

"If you could only save Sam or Dad, who would you save?"

"Sammy. Dad can take care of himself."

Touched although he thought he could take care of himself just fine, Sam was getting annoyed with the 'Sammys.' "Why do you insist on calling me Sammy?"

"It bugs the hell out of Sam and it reminds me of when he was younger and shorter. Things were so simpler then," Dean continued wistfully.

Sam rolled his eyes at the first part of his brother's answer. Of course Dean was only trying to exasperate him. He usually succeeded too. But the second part of Dean's answer made his breath catch in his chest.

But then getting bored of this game, Sam wondered what else he could make his big brother do. Suddenly, Sam's eyes lit up as he had a light bulb moment. He looked up, half expecting to see a light bulb flashing over his head. "Dean, get up."

Dean rose out of his bed slowly and clumsily with his eyes still closed. "Walk out the door to your car." Dean's arms went up as he sleepwalked into the door, bumping into it hard and bruising his knuckles. "Open the door, stupid." When Dean's hands finally found the doorknob, he stepped out of the motel room into the parking lot, tripping over the cement step down to the parking lot. As Sam knelt down to help him up, he was awarded with a flying kick to his stomach. Sam leaned against the Impala's door as he caught his breath. "Dean, it's me, dammit. Get up." When Dean got to his feet again, Sam surveyed the cuts and bruises on his brother's knees and hands. "Umm, you might want to open your eyes so you don't bump into something." Sam watched his brother's moss green eyes open but not register anything. He felt stupid that he hadn't thought of it before and a little startled that it actually worked.

Suddenly realizing how cold it was outside and that his brother was only wearing a t-shirt and dark boxers, he instructed his brother to get in the car. Dean immediately ambled to the driver's side and got in. "Dude, how come you get to drive even in your sleep? Oh well. Drive around for a while and then return to the motel," Sam ordered. He relaxed in his seat hoping it was safe to let his brother drive in his seat. He decided it was okay because he would be right here anyway. Right as he thought this, he held back a yawn as got comfortable in his seat. It was really serene and peaceful without Dean's music and his incessant chatter. The town at night was tranquil and he hadn't slept in days…

Twenty minutes later, Sam Winchester could be seen slumped in his seat, fast asleep and his brother driving in the middle of some hick town with a glazed look to his eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

At 2:27 a.m., a lone black '67 Chevy Impala was driving around a small, rural town. One of its two occupants was asleep in the passenger seat while the driver was driving in an almost robotic fashion. Both of the young men were underdressed for a winter night; one wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt and the other wearing a t-shirt and boxers.

If the driver had looked at the gas gauge, he would have noticed the needle was almost on empty. However, his glassy eyes were only fixed on the road ahead. He didn't even register the red and blue flashing lights behind him.

When the cop in the police car behind the Impala finally got the driver to pull over by cutting him off, he walked up to the car. As he looked into the car through the window, he noticed the passenger, a young male was asleep. His head was lolling against the window. The position looked cold and uncomfortable. The man looked exhausted and tired even from his vantage point.

The policeman wondered what two young men, strangers to the small town, were doing driving through the town at 2:30 at night. Suddenly, he realized that the driver was still staring ahead, not acknowledging his presence and he was only wearing a shirt and boxers! The police officer was intrigued. He usually didn't have any trouble during his shift. He knocked on the window.

When the car had stopped and he heard tapping, Sam awoke from his fitful slumber to a man dressed in a police officer's garb rapping on the window in the middle of the road. Panicking, Sam thought he was dreaming when he saw Dean in the driver's seat dressed in boxers with a vacant look to his face. He suddenly came out of his haze when he remembered the events of the night before… tonight. It was still the same night. The realization made him more aware of his surroundings. He became aware of the officer staring through the window at them and realized what had happened. Dean had driven "for a while" and he was still "asleep." Sam looked at his watch and realized it was 2:30 a.m. He rolled down the window.

"What are you boys doing in the middle of here wearing _that_?" the officer drawled.

Thinking fast knowing what they looked like, Sam replied, "We were on a dare and my brother here lost." Sam nodded at Dean.

"Is that so," he asked again, this time directing his question at Dean.

When his brother didn't answer, Sam knew what he had to do. "Dean, wake up," he said sharply. Ignoring the surprised look on the policeman's face, he shook his brother.

"What are you doing?"

Dean abruptly woke up with an astonished glance around him. "What happened?"

"Do you take drugs or drink, son?" the officer asked sternly.

"What?" Dean asked extremely startled, not sure if he'd heard correctly. Was he dreaming? Surely that was the reason for this hallucination.

"No, he doesn't; he's just acting," Sam jumped in, "right, Dean?"

"Uh huh," Dean answered, deciding it was better to go along with his brother instead of doing something else before he knew what was happening. Besides, he was still half asleep. Why couldn't he be on a beach with some hot chick instead of here if this was a dream?

"Yeah, so we'll just go back to where we came from," Sam said, glad that his brother hadn't freaked. He nervously hoped the officer would go away.

"You boys don't have much gas left and do you even know where you are?"

"Umm, we…," Sam stalled. Dean was glad to leave the talking to his brother.

"Where are you staying?"

Sam described their motel as Dean slowly began to awaken and realize that this wasn't a dream.

"That's pretty far from here. You don't have enough gas. Do you know where how to get back?" he asked Dean.

"No," he answered truthfully. "We have gas in the trunk, though."

The officer decided to accompany them back to their hotel and Sam filled the tank up because Dean was too cold.

When the officer finally went back to his car and they started on their way back, Sam avoided eye contact with his brother. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Dean was livid. He waited for the explosion. Sure enough, it came in a few seconds.

"What the hell happened, Sam??" Dean burst out. "What am I doing here in the middle of the night dressed like this? It's freezing!"

"I promise that Dad and I won't ever leave you alone, Dean," Sam said quietly.

"What!? What does that have anything to do with anything?"

"I know that's what you're scared of."

The statement had its desired effect and Dean immediately became quiet and stopped his ranting. "How do you know that?"

"Never mind. Anyway, you were saying…" Sam said, knowing his brother wouldn't be able to ignore what he had just said.

Unfortunately, he was proved wrong. "Why did I wake up to some police dude asking me if I do drugs or drink?"

A grin lit up Sam's face, infuriating Dean even more. He hadn't remembered what Sam had asked him in his sleep! Sam sighed contentedly and leaned back. Suddenly those lonely nights with nightmares and Dean asleep didn't seem so bad. He listened to Dean's tirade all the way back to the motel, thinking about what he would ask his brother the next time.


	3. Chapter 3

A couple weeks after the sleep driving incident found Dean watching his little brother sleep in the opposite bed in some motel they were staying in waiting for their father. They were getting closer to the demon and Dean was too keyed up to sleep. They were finally going to kill the demon. He deserved it for all the hell he'd put the Winchester family through. Of all the thoughts going through Dean's head, one stuck out the most. He was wondering about what Sammy's secret was that had lured Bloody Mary to him.

Extremely bored, Dean flipped idly through the channels of the tv. He found nothing interesting, but caught a glimpse of a show that jogged his memory. He'd seen a show when he was alone at night in a motel and Sam was at Stanford. He wondered if it would work on Sammy. He resolved to find out. Feeling kind of guilt-ridden about what he was about to do, he shook his head. He'd done worse things (not that that thought made him feel much better), but besides, Sammy would never find out.

Walking to his brother's bed, he stood over and observed him. He looked peaceful enough for it to work. Exhaustion after not sleeping for days in a soft, comfortable bed and the fact that they were going to kill the demon soon must have lulled him to sleep dreamlessly. He was sleeping on his stomach with his arm in a position that reminded Dean of the past. His brother would always sleep in the position; hugging an old, loved teddy bear.

Dean was suddenly caught in a flashback of the past when he'd bought his little brother the teddy bear.

_He'd gone with his dad to the store on Sam's birthday, leaving him with a sitter. He'd felt really guilty for leaving Sammy alone. He remembered that memory like it was yesterday. Sammy was crying and begging them not to leave him on his birthday. Dean had reassured him that they would be right back. _

_His dad had let him pick out any birthday present from the store for his brother because he'd been good on the last hunt. He'd gone straight to the toys, ignoring his father who wanted to give Sammy something "useful." _

_His eyes had fallen on a teddy bear that he knew Sammy would love. He'd always wanted a stuffed animal when he was Sammy's age and wanted to give Sammy a bear because his father had never bought him one and look how he turned out to be. _

_He dragged his father to the checkout line, holding the bear with a grin splitting his face. His father softened and agreed to buy the bear for Sammy because they both had been so good. _

_Dean would never forget the look on his little brother's face when they got back and he presented his gift to his brother. _

_He had been so happy and immediately wanted to name him Dean. Dean had refused, saying it would make it confusing, although he would never forget the look Sam had given him. He could have sworn if he had looked down, he would be floating off the ground. He was his brother's hero. _

_The cuddly bear was just what his brother had wanted at that age. Sammy had carried that bear around all the time and slept on his stomach with his right arm around the bear's neck every night. _

Dean knew that Sam still had the bear hidden under his clothes in his duffel. He'd even taken it to Stanford with him. Sam would kill him if he knew. The neck of the bear was so thin, if he hadn't grown out of it, it would have fallen off.

In fact, Dean remembered stitching its neck and various "cuts and bruises" or "booboos" as dubbed by Sammy along the way in his childish lopsided stitches. The stitches were probably still visible right now. Sam still slept that way sometimes out of habit even when he didn't have the bear.

Dean suspected that he took it out and slept with it when he was feeling depressed, sad, or lonely still when he wasn't around. Feeling sorry that he couldn't always be there for the younger man and caught up in memories of the past, one lone tear slid down Dean's cheek without his knowledge.

Brushing it away self-consciously, he asked hypnotically, "What's your secret that enticed Bloody Mary, Sammy?"

"My fault Jessica died," Sam mumbled innocently in an almost childlike voice.

"No, it's not Sam! How many times do I have to tell you that? Where's your proof?" Dean said exasperated.

"Dreamed fire ceiling bleeding before happened. Shoulda left or told truth," Sam slurred sleepily.

"What!?" Dean exclaimed. "Why didn't you tell me before?"

"Wouldn't understand. Leave. Think I'm freak."

"Oh, Sammy," Dean sighed, "I would never leave you. Even if you are a freak, I'm even more of one," he said, trying to make light of things.

"Not."

"What?"

"Not a freak."

"Ah, thanks, Sammy," Dean said, moved. He abruptly grinned. He had enough of this chick flick.

"So, Sammy," he drawled, "What embarrassing things can you tell me about yourself?"

Having a horrifying thought, Dean panicked for a moment before he settled down. Sammy couldn't have done the same thing to make him drive through town in the middle of the night in his boxers that night. He didn't sleep talk or walk and he definitely didn't sleep drive.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean yawned as he glanced at the luminous alarm clock for the millionth time. It was past midnight and the two Winchesters had gotten the "last" room available. They were sharing the queen bed and Sam had been so tired he'd fallen asleep before his head had even hit the pillow after Dean had half dragged him inside. Saving your brother from a demon and running halfway across the state can do that to a person.

Dean wasn't sleepy despite the yawn. He was actually fully awake and bored. Looking at his brother again, he sat up and pulled him more into the middle of the bed because Sam was lying on the edge precariously. "Damn, Sammy needs to lose some weight. It's probably his bones. Too long for his own good," Dean thought.

He got out of the bed and gently pried off the younger Winchester's boots with brotherly caution. He'd also collapsed into bed when they'd arrived, thinking he was going to fall asleep promptly from exhaustion. Unfortunately, that had not been the case.

Feeling wet with sweat and smelling his rank self, he peeled off his grimy t-shirt from the hunt. He surveyed it sadly. Another of his favorite t-shirts ruined. They weren't supposed to be on a hunt but the evil sons of bitches just _had_ to sneak up on them while they were least expecting it, didn't they? While he was at it, he pulled off his pants too. The motel room was sweltering hot and the air conditioning wasn't working. Figures.

He knew he should try to get some sleep because the next day would be really busy. Getting back in bed next to his brother, he tried to get comfortable, despite the heat.

Ten minutes later, Sam was lying in the exact same position and Dean was tossing and turning. He finally gave up trying to find a cool spot on the bed and let himself roll off the bed, kicking aside the comforter that had been thrown down ages ago. He was burning and had no idea how his little brother could sleep through him tossing, turning, kicking, grunting, and the temperature. He figured it was because all the years they'd slept in the close quarters had caused everyday noises to become muffled.

Stepping outside and gazing at the stars, he contemplated whether to sleep in the car as it was pretty cool outside. Deciding to spend the night in his car, he brought back a pillow and climbed into the backseat. He curled up, hugging his pillow as the wind coming through the opened windows ruffled his short hair. Being in the Impala was always comforting. The scent of the Winchesters was soothing. Sighing, he relaxed and finally fell asleep around 3:30.

Dean suddenly awoke, reaching for a nonexistent knife under his pillow. Instantly alert and jumping up forgetting where he was, he hit his head hard against the roof of the car. He swore, breathing hard, wondering what had woken him up. Hearing nothing, he decided to check on Sam.

Grabbing a gun from the trunk, he shook the sleep from his eyes and walked in the room, gun drawn and ready to shoot whatever may be disturbing his brother in the middle of the night. Finding nothing but his little brother having either a nightmare or vision, he dropped the gun onto the night table and shook him, trying to get him loose from the clutches of whatever monster was tormenting him.

Whimpering, Sam mumbled, "Make it stop. Don't hurt them." His brother, having a faint idea of what he was dreaming about, moved closer, trying to subdue him. Abruptly flailing, he kicked out at his brother. "Nooo!" he yelled.

While trying to restrain Sam, Dean got a kick in the leg for his efforts. "Sam, calm down," he commanded.

Sam instantly stilled, causing Dean to fall to the floor, landing on his butt, surprised. Getting up and brushing off his pride, he rested his hand on his brother's shoulder. "Hey, Sammy, what were you dreaming about?"

"Demon. Hurting, killing, torturing kids and Dean and Mom and Dad," Sam answered fearfully.

"Sammy, it's going to be okay. I'm here and the demon isn't going to hurt me again, okay?" Dean said softly, wincing as he remembered the pain the demon had caused him at the last showdown. "Go back to sleep and don't dream anymore tonight."

"Mmm," Sam responded, drifting off into a blissful and dreamless slumber.

Dean looked at the clock again. It was 5:45. It would soon be morning and time to wake up. He slipped into bed beside his brother and heard him moan. Concerned, he threw his arm around Sam and brought him close, hugging him. He felt his little brother relax against him and sigh contentedly. Sam pushed his head into Dean's chest. Putting his face into Sam's hair, Dean smelled his shampoo, a nice, clean scent. "What a geek," he thought affectionately and ruffled his younger brother's hair to get it away from his face.

Finally comfortable for the second time that night, Dean fell asleep in spite of the pain in his head from hitting it against the car roof, feeling safe embracing his brother.

--

The next night found Dean awake yet again, lying on his back counting the dots on the ceiling in another crappy motel room. Sam was asleep again. Well, at least the motel wasn't as crappy as the last one. Extremely bored, Dean wondered why their roles were reversed. Usually, he was the one to fall asleep first and Sam the one with the nightmares and bored nights watching pointless infomercials and soaps. He decided he'd rather be the one sleeping. Not that he wanted Sam to lie awake counting the dots on the ceiling or watching stupid shows in the middle of the night, but this body needed its beauty sleep to stay this hot.

Looking over at his brother, he decided to have a little fun. "I wonder if I can make him do something like the guys hypnotizing on TV do," he mused. "Hey, Sammy, you're a dog. And I mean that in a good way. Why don't you get up and say something in your 'language?'"

Sam robotically sat up but not in a human-like way. He was kneeling like a dog on all fours. He barked. Dean laughed heartily. "Oh, man, this is priceless. Gotta get it on camera." He looked around for his camera phone. Finding it on the table next to the bed, he snapped off a picture of Sam as the younger Winchester barked again.

"Oh dude or should I say mutt, can you do tricks? Beg."

Sam sat up on his "hind leg," put his "paws" up and stuck his tongue out, begging.

"Dude, if you saw this, you'd kill me," Dean snorted, snapping off pictures on his phone. "Oh well. Hmm, what else can you do? Roll over and play dead."

Sam obeyed the command amidst Dean's snickering as Dean took picture after of his brother, the dog.

Finally deciding to go back to sleep, Dean climbed into his bed, still chortling at the thought of Sammy the dog. He fell asleep quickly with a smile on his face that had Sam slightly suspicious when he woke up.


	5. Chapter 5

Sam Winchester was bored, angry and restless. He'd actually slept for the past two days unlike, he suspected, his brother. He didn't think Dean had slept in a while; probably plagued by nightmares from the last face-off with the demon. Exhaustion must have finally overtaken him for he was sleeping peacefully in the bed opposite Sam.

Dean had been particularly unbearable the last few days from lack of sleep and trying to prevent fights between Sam and his father. They'd met up with John and compared notes before he had taken off again. "And he hadn't even told them where he was going next," Sam thought angrily, unknowingly clenching his jaw and squeezing the side of the bed until his knuckles were white. His anger ebbing away slowly as he watched his older brother sleep, he released his hold on the bed and unclenched his jaw.

Suddenly uncharacteristically angry at Dean, Sam got out of bed and rummaged around in his duffle bag. Finding what he was looking for, he held it up in the moonlight filtering through the window and grinned. This was perfect.

Walking over to his brother, he commanded, "Dean, get up and use this paint to paint the Impala." He held out a bottle to his brother. "And don't forget to open your eyes. I had trouble explaining the bruises to you last time. Besides, don't want you painting anybody else's car but your own."

Taking the bottle from his hypnotizer's hands, Dean walked out of the motel room and over to the Impala parked outside. Smiling and finally feeling drowsy, Sam watched him. His eyes dropping for the fourth time out of his own accord, Sam shouted to Dean outside, "After you finish the car, get back in bed the same way you were before. _I'm_ going to sleep. See you in the morning!" Sam said cheerily, climbing into his bed and falling asleep soon after his head hit the pillow.

His last conscious thoughts before drifting off to sleep were, "I hope Dad's happy I'm finally dead and that he and Dean kill the demon for me. I can't wait to see you, Mom."

Outside, finished with the car, Dean came back into the motel and climbed into the bed in the same position he was in before Sam had made him get up.

The next morning, Sam was still sleeping in his bed when Dean walked out to his car to get something he'd forgotten the night before. "SAM!!" Dean yelled, probably waking every single person that was staying at the motel.

"What the -- did you do to my car!?" Sighing and rolling out of bed, feeling pretty calm despite the fact that his brother was probably going to kill him when he came back in, Sam got to his feet unsteadily. Dean stormed in, looking ready to kill him. "Sam, _why_ is my car pink?" he asked with a deadly calm.

"'Cause you painted it?" Sam said honestly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"And why would I do a thing like that to _my_ baby?" Dean asked again, this time beginning to frighten Sam.

"'Cause you got tired of black?" Sam ventured another guess nervously. "You know, black isn't really a color anyway, and even if it was a color, it's a really boring color." Sam knew he wasn't making very much sense and he was blabbering but was now definitely worried as he backed up, away from Dean.

"I'll give you one more chance, Sam, WHY DID YOU PAINT MY CAR _PINK_?!" Sam wondered if there was anybody in the town who hadn't heard his brother. He also wondered if anybody would take pity on him.

"I _didn't_! _You_ did!" Sam yelled back, finding his back against the wall. He knew he'd given away too much information when he saw realization dawn in his brother's widened eyes. "Uh oh," he mumbled under his breath.

"You made me do it in my sleep, didn't you?!" Dean asked, inching up even closer. "Wow, that mouthwash smells really good," Sam thought hysterically.

"You, you," Dean stuttered, trying to find the right word to describe his brother.

Looking like a cornered mouse, Sam looked around for an exit away from his brother, who, he swore, was foaming at the mouth…

--

Sam sighed. He was scrubbing the pink paint off his brother's Impala while Dean watched him through the window smirking. Dean was sitting inside the air conditioned motel room drinking a soda, mocking him. It was almost a hundred degrees out and Sam was wearing a long sleeved shirt. Dean refused to let him in the room until he got all the paint off. He was actually pretty surprised that Dean hadn't killed him but he was sure that the elder Winchester had something up his sleeve because he had let him off surprisingly easily. He noticed a predatory gleam in Dean's eye every time he looked at Sam.

Sam dared not take his shirt off because there were two girls, sisters he presumed, that were watching him from their window, also grinning. Albeit the object of their enjoyment was probably not the same as Dean's. The paint was almost impossible to get off and Sam had to put in a lot of elbow grease to get it off. Sam panted slightly. He was supposed to wax it when he was done too. Sweat was dripping off him and staining his shirt. "It was Dean's fault, anyway," Sam thought, sulkily. "He was the one who painted it anyway. Why am I busting my ass cleaning it off _his_ precious car?"

Sam paused, dropping the sponge into the bucket of soapy water. He patted his pockets. Finding what he was looking for, he slowly and deliberately walked over to the driver's seat and got in avoiding eye contact with Dean. Finally realizing what Sam was about to do, Dean rushed outside but was too late. Sam reversed and with a squeal of the tires, left the parking lot.

The car was still hot pink on one side, causing passerby to try to catch a glimpse of the driver driving a pink '67 Impala.

Feeling something poke his back, Sam reached behind him with one hand and found his brother's cell phone. He pocketed it and proceeded to drive to a car wash as quickly as he could amid the stares. Ten minutes later found Sam drinking a root beer from the bottle and sitting in the shade waiting for them to start taking off the paint.

Bored, he pulled Dean's phone out from his pocket and started playing with it. There were some really good games that he didn't have on his own phone He noticed a game that Dean had taught him to play years and years ago. Remembering the events brought a broad smile to his face. Dean was such a great brother. He'd spent so much time finding new games for them to play in their motel rooms while Dad was researching and needed quiet.

Sam was brought out of his reminiscing when the guy said that the car was done. Thoroughly in a good mood, Sam accepted the keys and drove back to the motel where he knew Dean was waiting for him, probably wearing out the carpet with his pacing.

**Thanks to blazingfire03 for the idea of Sam painting the Impala pink.**


	6. Chapter 6

Dean was pacing back and forth in the confined space of the motel room. "Sam better not mess up my baby any more. If he does, I'll kill him!" Dean thought. An idea occurred to him and he stopped and his eyes lit up. "Actually…" Dean had thought of a better way to get back at Sam for making him paint his car hot pink.

When Sam got back to the motel, he opened the door cautiously because he didn't want Dean shooting him before he got a chance to explain. What he saw made him stop in his tracks and stare incredulously. Dean was lying on one of the beds watching tv. He didn't even spare his brother a glance or get up to look at what Sam had done to the Impala.

Suspicious, he looked at the door above him. No, Dean hadn't balanced a bucket on it. Noticing his brother looking above him warily, he let out a low chuckle. "Don't worry, Sammy, I didn't sabotage anything in this room. In fact, I even forgive you. I probably had it coming to me." Sam just shook his head. He still didn't trust Dean. He could be downright devious sometimes. Finding nothing wrong with in the bathroom or with his clothes after a close inspection, he decided to take a shower. He must reek something awful from all the sweat.

When Sam entered the bathroom and Dean heard the shower go on, he jumped up and ran to the window. He let out a sigh of relief. Sam had gotten a new coat of paint and maybe a wax but nothing else. He couldn't have done anything to the interior. What if Sam, like himself, was waiting for the night to get back at him? Or what if he had something else planned in that freaky head of his? "Well, there's only one thing I can do," Dean thought, "I've got to make sure he falls asleep before me and he doesn't do anything else."

Stepping out of the bathroom now fully clothed, Sam noticed that Dean hadn't moved at all. He tossed his dirty laundry into a bag. Unlike Dean, he kept a separate bag for his laundry instead of stuffing it back into his duffel. What if Dean was waiting for the perfect chance to get back at him? He had to keep his guard up.

"Hey, you want to go get something to eat? I think I saw something decent on the way here. They probably have some good rabbit food for you," Dean said. Needless to say, he thought he was too man to eat salads like Sam.

"No thanks, I had breakfast earlier."

"That's okay. Come with me, I need the company," Dean answered, fully not trusting Sam on his own in the room with all his stuff.

After readily agreeing to go, Sam accompanied Dean to the car. Feeling something in his pocket, he pulled out Dean's phone. He held it out to his brother, who looked at it like a bomb about to explode.

"What did you do to it?" Dean asked apprehensively.

"Nothing," Sam huffed, "I found it on the seat. It must've fallen out of your pocket." Dean took it, still wary. He wiped it off on his jeans before climbing into the driver's seat. "I told you I didn't do anything to it!" Sam exclaimed. "Don't you trust me?"

"Frankly, no. Besides, it probably has Sammy cooties from being in your pocket."

Sam scoffed. "What are you, seven?"

"Whatever, bitch."

"Jerk."

Six hours later, Dean was emptying a packet into a cup of coffee when Sam walked over. He hastily hid the packet and handed the coffee to Sam. They had investigated the new job all day and now it was night. "Find anything?" Dean asked Sam.

"Nope, nada," Sam replied, taking a sip but not before sniffing it for poison. He kind of wished Dean would hurry up with his revenge because he was going crazy waiting for it.

"Dude, don't you trust _me_?"

"_No._" Dean didn't object.

Soon, Sam was asleep in the car. When he got to the motel, Dean inwardly groaned. Why hadn't thought of this? Sam was going to be a bitch to carry inside but he had to or Sam might get suspicious.

"Sam, every time you hear somebody say Sammy, you say _I'm a geek._"

Testing it out, Dean said "Sammy" softly into the night.

"I'm a geek," Sam said immediately.

"Damn, I'm good," Dean said, grinning as he climbed into bed.

A couple hours later, Sam woke up. "Oh shit," he thought. He'd planned to stay awake in case Dean tried to do something to him. Dean seemed to be sleeping soundly enough as he wasn't moving. "Dean, what's your most embarrassing secret?" he whispered, hoping Dean was asleep.

"No way in hell I'm telling _you_," Dean answered, grinning as he heard the younger man cuss. "Hey aren't college boys not supposed to use words like that?"

"Fff you," Sam said. His answer was muffled by his pillow.

"Excuse me, didn't quite catch that."

Sam repeated himself louder, lobbing an extra pillow at his brother.

Dean just caught it in midair and added it to his side. "Fine, be like that." Both brothers rolled over but they both knew they wouldn't be getting any more sleep tonight.

The next morning found the Winchester brothers ordering breakfast. "Hey Sammy, what do you want?" Dean asked, forgetting.

"I'm a geek," Sam said loudly, causing people from the next chair and the waiter to stare at him. Where'd that come from? Turning red, he added, "pancakes."

Dean ducked his head at the bewildered look on his brother's face as he tried to keep from laughing out loud. This was going to be so much fun.

Unfortunately, Sam heard the repressed sniggers coming from his brother. "_You_ did this?" he asked angrily, his voice rising.

"Yeah I did," Dean answered. He knew that it didn't matter if Sam knew. He was going to figure it out anyway. "Sammy," he finished, unable to resist.

Sam clamped his hand over his mouth but was too late. "I'm a geek."

By now most of the patrons were looking at them. Unable to keep in his mirth, Dean snickered out loud.

Humiliated, Sam fled out to the car where he waited for his brother to finish eating at his own leisurely pace. When Dean finally approached the car, Sam demanded, "Make it stop!"

"Oh Sammy," Dean grinned.

"Stop saying that! That's what's making me say it."

"Oh college boy, you're so smart. I knew you'd catch on," Dean said as he got into the driver's seat. "Oh, I got you a doggy bag." He tossed a slightly wet paper bag into Sam's lap.

"Suddenly I'm not very hungry," Sam said as he eyed the soggy mess of pancakes and syrup in the bag.

"Come on, you have to eat,… _Sammy._"

"Stop saying that!" Sam cried out as he clamped both hands over his mouth once again to no avail.

Dean sighed contentedly. "This is going to be _so_ much fun."


	7. Chapter 7

Dean grinned predatorily as he eyed a pretty bartender. As far as he knew, Sam hadn't tried to get him back yet. Dean knew that his time was limited as he had refused outright to stop making Sam say that he was a geek every time he called him Sammy.

After the first couple days, he'd honestly tried to stop saying Sammy so much but it wasn't working. It still slipped out of his mouth sometimes because he was so used to saying it.

Now they were sitting in a bar in Texas. Dean wondered if he should be suspicious because Sam had insisted on coming with him. He usually was content to research whatever they were hunting while Dean went. Sam hadn't even let him out of sight. Dean figured Sam was just drawn to his extremely good looks. The bar was beginning to get his spirits up. They hadn't been able to relax for a while. He motioned for the bartender to pour him another beer.

Sam smirked as watched his brother. It was going to happen really soon. He still couldn't believe Dean had refused to make him stop replying whenever he said Sammy. It had almost been a week since the breakfast incident. Sam had refused to go in public lest Dean call him Sammy.

He'd even offered to give Dean permission to unhypnotize him in his sleep. Dean had declined and he was still mad at him but couldn't resist watching the fireworks from his front row seat next to his brother. Any minute now…

Dean smiled at the bartender as she came over. Before he could open his mouth to flirt, however, he felt himself stand up and start singing along with the song on the jukebox that was playing at the moment _really loudly_. He grabbed a spoon from a nearby table and used it as a microphone while jumping around and dancing. The song happened to be a slow one by REO Speedwagon.

His eyes widened as heard Sam snickering next to him and realized why it had seemingly taken Sam so long to get back at him. This was the first time they'd gone to a bar since the sleep wars had begun. He looked around. Everybody was staring at him and he didn't think all of it had to do with his sexy voice and drop dead looks.

Shaking the fist that wasn't holding the spoon at Sam who was shaking with mirth, he tried unsuccessfully to stop singing. Suddenly, he stopped. The bartender had moved away and was looking funny at him. She busied herself by wiping a glass.

Wondering why he'd stopped and what had made him start in the first place, Dean looked at Sam. He still had a funny grin on his face.

Dean glared at each of the patrons of the bar in turn until everybody had ceased staring at him. "Sam, what'd you do?" he asked venomously.

"Oh, god, that was really funny," Sam replied, holding his side. "Everybody was staring at you."

"And you find it funny that everybody was admiring my gorgeous looks and my sexy voice?"

"I notice you didn't say anything when I called myself a geek in public," Sam returned.

"What triggered it?" Dean asked.

"No way am I telling you."

"C'mon, please, tell me," Dean pleaded. "They might drag me into the loony bin. Christ, Sam, I don't want to start singing again here. If I want to sing REO Speedwagon, I'll do it willfully in the car or shower."

"Why don't you just repeat everything you did since we got here until you start singing again?" Sam asked, smirking.

"I can't do that!" Suddenly Dean had a change of heart.

He needed to figure out what the trigger was a before he started singing in a more public place where he couldn't be considered drunk. "Let's see, I walked over here and sat down and took a drink," Dean mumbled to himself. Sam grinned at the serious look on Dean's face.

"Could it have been when I took a drink?" Dean asked, looking at Sam.

"Not telling. You'll just have to try it and see."

Dean groaned but tentatively took a sip but got up and moved toward the door slowly in case he needed to escape… Nothing happened. Dean sighed in relief. At least he could drink his beer without expecting to start singing. Now, what else did he do?

The bartender walked by again and Dean smiled as Sam hid his grin behind his bottle. Dean got up again but when he opened his mouth to start singing, this time a country song, he half ran to door and into the Impala.

Laughing, Sam followed him. And the best part was that Dean still didn't know what had triggered it. This was perfect.

Later in a motel near Breckenridge, Dean went inside to get a room. He'd started singing at a diner after the bar incident but was sure nothing could happen here.

Catching a glimpse of the pretty young owner's daughter, Sam followed, just in case. There was a soft song playing on the radio in the background. Sam entered just in time to hear Dean singing along with Taylor Swift.

Turning red and wondering what he'd done to trigger it this time, Dean walked out of the office still singing quietly with his hands clamped tightly over his mouth without a backward glance at his brother and the owner's daughter.

He was fuming when Sam returned after getting the room, explaining to the girl that Dean just had urges and impulses sometimes. Just wait till he thought of some way to get back at Sam. He still didn't know what the trigger was. Unless it was being around females, he hadn't done the same thing at the bar and here… actually, "I _did_!" Dean shouted excitedly, thumping his hands on the steering wheel for emphasis as he figured it out.

Sam looked at him sideways and moved toward his door. He hadn't done anything to Dean except make him sing along with the music that was playing or make up his own song when he started flirting. What if tampering with someone's brain in their sleep made the person go crazy? "Umm, Dean, are you okay?"

"Of course I am. I start singing when I flirt, right?" Dean said calmly.

Sam laughed. Dean hadn't gone crazy… maybe he was a little, but then again, who wasn't? "Took you long enough. What was that, three times?"

"So what? Not everybody went to college like you."

Chuckling, Sam replied, "You don't need to go to college to figure that out. It was pure logic. Even a little kid could have figured it out before you."

"Shut up," Dean said as he turned on the radio. A country song by Garth Brooks was on and Sam started singing along with it, imitating Dean, but drawling and making his voice like Dean's. "Being drunk really brings out your drawl. I didn't even know you had one," Dean commented.

"Shut up," was Sam's only comeback but he stopped singing nevertheless. "I'm not drunk."

"You sound like it when you sing."

Sam was silent as Dean changed to tape and Metallica blared out of the speakers. He was just a little afraid of what Dean would think of next.

At the same time Sam was wondering what Dean was going to do next, Dean decided to find out something really embarrassing about Sam, even more than the things he already knew. He would also punish Sam for what he had done to him.


	8. Chapter 8

Dean watched Sam sleeping two days after the singing incident. He hadn't flirted for almost a week. Now, as he thought of what he was going to do to Sam, a malicious grin spread across his face. Sam was going to be sorry for what he'd made Dean do. Sam suddenly moaned and turned over. Dean walked closer to Sam's bed but Sam then gasped and let out a scream. Dean immediately moved to Sam's side and shook him gently, saying, "Sammy?"

Sam ignored him and screamed again and kicked out, catching Dean in the stomach. Dean grunted as Sam started hyperventilating. He still didn't open his eyes. Straightening up and climbing into the bed next to Sam, Dean held his arms and legs down while speaking softly and reassuringly. Sam finally calmed down and stopped struggling. With a sigh, he relaxed but flipped onto his side and curled around Dean. His arm went around Dean's. Caught by surprise, Dean just knelt there on the bed, next to Sam.

This was his baby brother. The one that had him wrapped around the finger with his big, brown puppy dog eyes and dimples. The one that knew exactly how to push his buttons and did it all the time. The one that he taken out of a burning house twice. And the one that he had protected for twenty three years.

The one that he had held at night so many times after he had woken up screaming. The one that he'd taught everything he knew and played with when their Dad was too busy for them. The one that he'd read and told stories too. The one that he'd watched grow, from a scared 6 month year old, to an unsure and rebelling teenager, to a confident adult that still needed his big brother from time to time. The one that he'd watched shoot a gun for the first time, then, not soon after, make a kill for the first time.

The one who thought he was invincible but really, deep inside, he was plain scared. The one that was the only thing holding him. The one that was his life and the one that he couldn't live without.

Sam was the only family he had left. Both their parents were dead now. How could he hurt or embarrass Sammy? Why had he played so many mean pranks on him? This was his only little brother. How could he make him do something worse than he had already done?

"Sammy?" Dean said softly, looking down at his brother. "Don't say that you're a geek every time I say Sammy, okay?" Sam grunted softly in response.

"Okay, but this is what I want you to do…" Dean smiled. He couldn't resist. Besides, Sam would get suspicious when he found that Dean hadn't done anything to him after the last prank. He _was _Dean Winchester and teasing his brother came as naturally to him as breathing. Brothers were supposed to fight. He wouldn't scar Sam permanently but it wouldn't hurt to find out some more information, either.

The next morning, Sam woke to Dean lying curled up beside him on his bed with a heavy arm draped over him. Pushing Dean's arm off, Sam got up to go buy coffee.

When Dean woke up, Sam was on the laptop and he held out the coffee to him. Taking it and sitting up sleepily, Dean wished he was back watching the sunset and taking a long walk with a girl. "Thanks, Sammy."

Sam braced himself but he didn't say anything. "Wow, Dean, you made me stop saying it."

"Yeah, but remember, it's still true even if you don't say it," Dean flashed his trademark grin.

"Shut up. I suppose you have something worse in store for me?" Sam asked.

"Wouldn't you like to know? I'm not telling you. You'll just have to wait and see," Dean answered.

Sam just shook his head. "Don't you think this has gone far enough? Truce?"

"You're just saying that because it's your turn. Scared?"

"Of course I'm not," Sam replied instantly, "I just think that this is pointless and stupid and that we should stop before it escalates to something worse than making someone sing when he flirts."

"Chicken."

"Shut _up_!"

"Aw, come on, Sammy, just admit it. You're afraid that I'm gonna make you do something _really _embarrassing."

"We've got a new gig," Sam said, changing the subject.

"Okay, let's go get some breakfast."

They walked to the Impala after Dean got dressed.

"You know, Dean, your car needs a wash again. It…" Sam suddenly stopped talking. His lips were moving but nothing was coming out. Dean doubled over, laughing at Sam. Sam kept moving his mouth, but it seemed like he'd temporarily lost his voice.

"Hey Sammy, shut it," Dean said amidst snickers. "You look like those fish. Quit trying to talk." After this, Dean calmly got in and put his keys in. "Well, you coming or not?" he asked.

Sam was still standing outside but when Dean began backing the Impala out, he quickly got in. A couple minutes later, Dean glanced over at Sam. There was an angry look on his face. "Ahh, blissful silence," Dean said as he leaned back. It was only going to last a little while longer.

"What did you do to me?" Sam mouthed. Dean just laughed. A minute later, Sam tried again and this time his voice was back. "You made me lose my voice for," he checked his watch, "five minutes every time I insult your car."

"You even timed it? I'm impressed."

"Well, not everybody is like…" Dean snickered at the look on Sam's face as he lost his voice again. This was going to be great. Sam would lose his voice for five minutes every time he insulted Dean or the Impala. Harmless, but still… it would cure Sam from his unremitting need to insult Dean and his baby.

Sam was going to forget very soon. Dean turned up the music and started singing as loud as he could. He had a little more than four minutes left.

**Thanks to chocolate rules for this idea.**


	9. Chapter 9

Sam fumed silently. He'd lost his voice for the millionth time that day, feeling the need to insult Dean all day because he was being a jerk. After a hard and annoying day in a crappier than crappy motel and the library, Sam had had it with Dean. He gave up talking and the Winchesters spent the drive to the next motel in silence. They finally found one with two queens (both brothers had an unspoken agreement that neither of them were going to share a bed, sleep in the car, or fight for the only bed) and settled in for the night, each avoiding eye contact and not talking except to ask the other politely to change the channel or where to go for dinner.

Finally, it was late enough to turn in for the night. After taking turns in the tiny bathroom, both brothers got into bed silently. Sam lay in bed waiting for Dean to fall asleep. He himself pretended to fall asleep to throw suspicion off himself. Soon, after half an hour of fake snores, Sam decided Dean was asleep, judging from his even breathing. Dean was sure to be exhausted from all the "research" that he did at the library.

Sam threw off the scratchy covers and sat up in his bed, looking around at the motel. The faded wallpaper that was yellow once was peeling and dirty in many places. Dean looked asleep in the bed opposite his own. "Dean? Are you asleep?" Sam asked softly into the night.

From the other bed, Dean couldn't hold back a grin. He knew Sam was going to try something on him today. He was ready. Still feigning sleep, he answered in what he hoped was a "sleep talking voice." "Yes."

It seemed to convince Sam and he seemed to ponder his question before asking, "Dean, do you know where Bandit is?"

Dean froze and forced himself to keep up the act. Sam sounded in all the world like a little kid that had lost his teddy bear… which in this case, seemed exactly what had happened. "He's at the very bottom of your old green duffel bag." Hearing Sam's footsteps receding, Dean risked opening one eye.

Picking up his keys from the night table, Sam left the room and walked to the Impala parked outside the room. He opened the trunk and brought back his green bag. Wrestling the old zipper open, he dug down to the bottom and pulled out an old, falling apart teddy bear. His face lit up and he hugged "Bandit" to his chest for a minute before turning back to Dean. Hastily closing his eyes, Dean tried to keep the smile from taking over his face. How he hated 'chick flick' moments! It was so much easier when he could pretend to be asleep.

"Okay Dean, what I want you to do next is order and eat salads all day tomorrow. Oh, I also want you to disobey the next order Dad gives you if we're not on a hunt." Shocked yet again in the same night, Dean had even more trouble keeping up with the act this time. He didn't think he could deal with any more surprises tonight.

"Hey Sam, did you know that you could cause brain damage by messing with my brain too many times?" Sam jumped visibly, dropping Bandit.

"What the – ? You were awake?" Sam asked, outraged.

"Well, yeah," Dean drawled, "do you really think I would fall asleep after today?"

"How would _I _know how your brain works?" Sam returned. Dean snorted and sat up on the edge of his bed.

"Come on, Sammy. You have never perfected the fake snores. You've always sucked at pretending to be asleep."

"Jerk."

"Bitch," Dean returned easily. "Dude, what was with the disobeying Dad on his next order command?" Sam blushed but didn't answer. "Huh? Answer me, Sam," Dean said, his tone getting harder.

"Nothing," Sam said under his breath.

"NOTHING!! That's not nothing, Sam!" Dean yelled, getting into Sam's face. Sam flinched and turned away. Suddenly, Dean stepped away, running his hand through his short hair. "Forget it. Doesn't matter." Scrubbing his face with his hands, he grabbed his keys from the nightstand near his bed and pulled on yesterday's jeans over his boxers. The whole room shook when he slammed the door shut.


	10. Chapter 10

_Chapter 10_

_From the previous chapter:_

_"Okay Dean, what I want you to do next is order and eat salads all day tomorrow. Oh, I also want you to disobey the next order Dad gives you if we're not on a hunt." Shocked yet again in the same night, Dean had even more trouble keeping up with the act this time. He didn't think he could deal with any more surprises tonight._

_"Hey Sam, did you know that you could cause brain damage by messing with my brain too many times?"_

_And later…_

_"NOTHING!! That's not nothing, Sam!" Dean yelled, getting into Sam's face. Sam flinched and turned away. Suddenly, Dean stepped away, running his hand through his short hair. "Forget it. Doesn't matter." Scrubbing his face with his hands, he grabbed his keys from the nightstand near his bed and pulled on yesterday's jeans over his boxers. The whole room shook when he slammed the door shut._

With a sigh, Sam sank down onto the motel bed, going halfway to the floor. He cursed at the bed, the motel, himself, and everything else he could think of. A loud rock song suddenly made itself known in the fog of Sam's cluttered mind. He rolled his eyes and stretched out a long muscular arm to grab Dean's cell phone from the nightstand near the lamp. But then right as he opened it to take the call, it stopped ringing. "Wrong number," Sam thought.

But then a '_ping' _signaled a text message. Sam opened it to find a new hunt request from Ellen.

He began to play around with the features of Dean's phone for a while, waiting for Dean to come back. As he scrolled through Dean's folders, he noticed one titled "_Sammy_". Before he had a chance to open it, however, Dean walked back through the door, this time not angry.

"Sam, I…" Dean started.

"Look Dean, I'm sorry. It was uncalled for. I swear I'll never do anything like that again."

"Good." Dean said as he took another step inside, also noticing his open phone lying next to his brother. He snatched it up hastily; thankful Sam hadn't opened the folder named after him.

"We have to go," Sam told him, "Ellen sent us a text message. Now, are you too tired to drive?"

"No, but…" Dean started again to be interrupted again by Sam.

"I'll explain on the way. C'mon, let's go," Sam said calmly, bending to reach a shirt of Dean's on the floor and tossing it in his brother's face. Dean stared at Sam for a moment before reaching for his duffel and flinging the dirty shirt in it. He pulled on his leather jacket and followed the already packed Sam out to the Impala.

--

"Are we going to stop here?" Dean asked as Sam awoke from a half hour slumber.

"Doesn't matter. There's no hurry."

"So…?"

"So, we're going to take our time. Let's stop here," Sam motioned to a grimy looking motel on the right side.

"Here? But Sam, we…"

"Here is fine," Sam replied decisively.

"Whatever you say, Sammy. But can you explain to me why we're taking so long. I thought you said she said to hurry."

"I said she said to take our time and get there safely. Besides, I told her it would take three days."

"But, why…?" Dean asked only to be cut off but Sam yet again.

"Just do it, okay? I know what I'm doing."

"Sure," Dean drawled. "Did you know what you were doing that hot, summer day in '89? Huh?" he asked again, enjoying causing Sam to squirm and blush.

"Shut up."

"Make me," Dean returned.

"Real mature Dean, real mature."

"Hey, I'm not the one who…"

"Shut _up_!" Sam said, turning a deeper shade of red and jumping out of the car. "I'll go pay."

Dean chuckled and leaned back in his seat. God, he loved pushing Sammy's buttons. He was glad things were fine and normal between them again… well, at least as normal Winchesters could get. He could even forgive Sam for trying to disobey Dad's orders too. He stopped grinning abruptly when Sam returned with a sheepish look on his face. "What's wrong?" he grilled impatiently.

"They only have one bed. And, no! We're not going to find a different motel. We've been driving for a day and we're both tired. We have two days left to get there and we have a lot of time. And no! You're not sleeping in the car or anywhere else. We're sharing the bed. It's only a night and I bet you'll fall asleep right away. I swear I won't try to do anything to you when you sleep." Sam said in one breath.

"Whoa, breathe," Dean said, holding his hands up in surrender. "Fine, we'll do it your way but we're out of here tomorrow."

"Fine."

"_Fine,_" Dean returned, determined not to be outdone.

"_Fine_! Jerk," Sam added under his breath.

"Bitch," Dean returned, unable to keep a cocky grin from taking over his face. After a few moments, unable to take it any more, Sam bit.

"What?" he asked warily.

"Oh, Sammy, you're soo cute when you're mad!" Dean sighed in a high, fake voice. "Your face gets all red and you clench your fists and you stick your jaw out and your eyes get all squinty, and, and…"

Sam turned red and wished he hadn't given in to his brother. He _knew _it was going to be something like this. "God, shut up. Don't let anybody here hear you saying that," he motioned to a seedy looking person that was leaning against the building.

"You're the one who started it," Dean said childishly, jutting his jaw out.

"Now look who's the cute one," Sam said with a grin. The Winchester brothers, so old but yet so young, made their way to their one-bed room in silence.


	11. Chapter 11

Sam studied the cracks in the ceiling above his head. _That one looks like a bear, _he thought, unable to sleep with Dean snoring in his ear. At least one of them was getting some sleep. _No, it looks more like Dean in the morning before his coffee. _He stifled a snicker at that, not wanting to wake his peacefully sleeping brother.

Trying to make out the dial on his watch, he decided it was somewhere around 1 a.m. Dean shifted next to him. He felt unexpectedly warm and soft. Of course, he didn't feel so soft when he accidentally kicked him in his sleep, but still… Sam admitted to himself that he'd missed sleeping with his brother. It just felt so safe and comfortable… This feeling was priceless, unable to recreate with anything but the presence of big brother. He'd even convinced Dean not to keep his knife under his pillow. He was still in surprise over that. Probably because Dean was so tired tonight.

Watching Dean sleep, Sam noticed that he looked so much younger. In the dim light of the room, you couldn't see the recent scars adorning Dean's face and he looked less tough and surly.

Dean rolled over onto his stomach and threw his left arm over Sam, his forearm squeezing Sam's neck like a teddy bear. Sam squirmed, a little uncomfortable to be held so close. If Dean woke up… Sam grinned and relaxed. He felt even safer now. About to drift off to sleep in the warmth of Dean's one armed hug… or strangle, he groaned with resentment when Dean let go of him and turned over again with a gasp. Sam sighed, wondering what Dean was dreaming about.

"No," Dean moaned, "Mom… Dad… Sammy?" Dean whimpered, curling up into a ball, his back pressed against Sam's side. Sam could feel Dean's t-shirt, moist with sweat, through his own shirt and his bare belly, where his shirt had ridden up with his tossing and turning.

Of course. Dean was dreaming about Lawrence. What else? Sam put a hand on Dean's back and moved around in comforting circles, like Dean used to do to him many years ago. Sam was taken by surprise at the fact that in a couple minutes, Dean had relaxed again and was sleeping like a baby. Just with a back rub and some human physical contact. The last couple weeks had been hard on both of them. They fought and fought and even if there was that manly shoulder punch and "good job" on the hunt, it just wasn't enough.

Sam sighed again as he found himself studying the cracks again. Looking around for something to do that wouldn't wake Dean, his eyes paused on his cell phone where it was charging. Surpassing that, they landed on Dean's cell phone. What was in that folder that Dean didn't want him to see? He'd noticed Dean's expression, like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and the way he took it back.

Stretching out his right arm as far as it would go, he seized Dean's phone without getting up. Turning on his side away from Dean so it wouldn't wake him up, Sam opened the phone silently. Scrolling through the folders, some of them containing unique names and probably even more unique subject matter, Sam landed on his folder. He tried to open it, but it denied his request, instead asking for a password. Sam smiled as he entered the correct password. Dean was so predictable. He thought he was being clever but anyone who knew him could figure it out. It was kind of cute… but heaven help him if Dean heard him thinking that.

Looking through the folder, Sam decided that Dean was anything but cute. Where did he _get _these pictures?! The one of him asleep with a spoon is mouth was no surprise, but the others…

He was going to kill Dean! Scrolling through the pictures, he found that there were about fifty embarrassing pictures of him collected through the years. There was even a couple of him in his Superman costume from years ago. Dean must've transferred the pictures from other sources because many of them had been before he'd gotten this phone.

Sam's eyes widened when he found a couple of pictures of him holding a very loved bear. He'd forgotten all about it. He felt his eyes grow misty as he reminisced. Dean had gotten the bear for his birthday years ago. It was just as he'd always wanted. As he'd grown older, the bear's name had changed with his interests. First it was named Dean but Dean didn't like that.

When Sam liked Superman, it was Krypto, when he liked Scooby Doo, it was Scooby, when he liked the Power Rangers, it was Ninja Storm. He smiled, remembering all the names it had and how he'd changed throughout his childhood. The best part was that Dean usually didn't tease him about it. He only tormented him when Sam was especially being a brat.

How could he have forgotten about his bear? He'd taken it to Stanford and slept with it a couple of times there when he was feeling homesick although he would never admit it to Dean. Sam's finger hovered above the delete button.

In a couple of years, he would probably find the pictures again during a prank war and remember this day when he painted Dean's Impala pink. He snapped a couple of pictures of the pink Impala.

Sitting back down, he found a picture of him holding up cotton candy and a Scooby Doo stuffed animal and holding his stomach, grimacing. Sam laughed out loud as he remembered the events that led up to that picture.

Dean had taken him for the first time to Great America. Their dad had treated them with twenty dollars for the last hunt where Sam had almost died. Dean had spent the money wisely but Sam had wanted to do everything: ride every ride and play every game. They'd gone on almost every ride but Dean had refused to go on the Ferris Wheel. Sam could see why now.

They'd just ridden a roller coaster and Dean had gotten him a cotton candy because Sam had never seen one before. Sam had gotten the Scooby Doo at the end of the day. They only had five dollars left because of a large lunch and going on rides all day. They hadn't played any games yet but Sam had seen a giant Scooby Doo and begged Dean to try to win it for him because Scooby Doo was his favorite cartoon at the time.

It was a toss the ring into the bottle game that was next to impossible but seeing how Sam wanted it so badly, Dean had tried his luck. Not winning the first four times, Dean had asked him if he wanted to spend the last dollar on it when it was sure that they could win something else smaller. Sam told him to try again and crossed his fingers.

Dean tossed his second to last ring… Sam closed his eyes – he couldn't bear watching…

And then it went in! Even the woman running the game was surprised. She had taken pity for the two little boys that wanted to win so badly, especially the younger one that was so excited and adorable and the older one that wanted to make his little brother happy and make this a memorable moment.

Looking through the photos of himself, Sam decided that Dean was creative at least. He was in all kinds of inventive poses with his eyes closed. A couple even had him chuckling to himself because only Dean could think of them. Fortunately, the ones Sam himself was amused at were more than the ones that he was angry at.

Sam looked over at Dean asleep. He wasn't a saint but he still was his only brother. Sam thought of the things he'd made Dean do in his sleep and decided that he could forgive Dean. He snorted to himself. Of course he could forgive Dean at the moment because he was innocently asleep and having a bad dream about Lawrence. Lawrence. The thing that had brought them so close together.

His thoughts now racing in a million different directions again, Sam thought about what would've happened if Mary hadn't been killed. He would have gone to college and become a lawyer. Would he and Dean share the same bond they had now? What if they'd become enemies because they didn't share the same interests? The only thing that really brought them together was Dean taking care of him when he was a kid and hunting. If it had never happened, they would definitely never be sharing this motel bed right now. Sam would be sharing a king sized with Jessica and who knew where Dean would be?

_Crash. _Something fell in a neighboring room or maybe outside and Dean rolled over again onto his other side with a groan, bringing Sam's attention back to him. Dean slid his hand under his pillow and Sam quickly grabbed Dean's knife and slid it under his pillow, nicking his thumb in his haste. Sam sucked at the tiny cut on his finger in silence and hoped Dean wouldn't wake up. He lay still for a minute and listened. There was no more noise and Dean didn't wake up. Sam only relaxed when Dean threw the arm not caressing his knife around his waist and started snoring loudly again.

"I love you, jerk," Sam whispered softly with a dimpled grin. As if in answer though Dean was definitely asleep, he embraced Sam a little tighter, his snores not pausing. Sam relaxed completely for the second time that night in his brother's presence. He snuggled into Dean's hold despite the fact that it was sweltering hot.

Sam smiled wider. Now he completely forgave Dean but of course, tomorrow, he would be pissed at him again. And next week, Dean would tell him to do something when he was sleeping or take some more pictures and Sam would get him back. It was a never-ending cycle and one for which Sam was grateful for. If they didn't have it, life would most certainly become unbearable for both of them. And then who would be there to take care of the Yellow Eyed Demon?

Sam sighed in satisfaction. Maybe tomorrow he'd delete the really embarrassing pictures from Dean's phone before he woke up but he doubted it. Dean would wake up first and hog the shower and use up all the hot water. Then he'd go get breakfast and "forget" to get something healthy for Sam. He'd pick up a bag of peanut M&Ms and eat them in the car on the way to the next stop. He'd blast his mullet rock and refuse to turn it down or change it. After all, "driver picks the music and shotgun shuts his cakehole." He would leave his disgusting food all over the place and decline to do the laundry. He would always be the same. He would always be Sam's big brother. Despite all his infuriating little quirks, he would always give his life up for Sam in a heartbeat without thinking. He would always be there to protect Sam or be there when the world got too hard to handle with a smirk or something to make Sam laugh.

A jaw popping yawn had Sam aware of how tired he was and how comfortable it was in this position. Tomorrow he would take care of everything. Everything would be okay because Dean was there. Everything was okay because they could take on the world together. Everything was okay because when life got too heavy, Sam could always make Dean do something in his sleep… or count on Dean to do something to him. He'd also gotten some really ingenious ideas from the pictures on Dean's phone. That reminded him, he had to delete some pictures from Dean's phone tomorrow… but now all he had to worry about was thinking up new ideas of what to make Dean do next…

Sam fell asleep with a huge smile on his face. Dean woke up knowing he should be wary of that look but he'd had a really good night of sleep and it didn't matter… at the moment. He knew he had to start thinking to counter some of those ideas going on in his little brother's freaky brain. But now it didn't matter because he had to go take a shower… maybe he'd even leave a little hot water for Sammy…

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